


(Almost) Sorry

by DeadGhosts



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Dead Jason Todd, Except he isn't actually dead in this universe but nobody knows that so, Gen, Horror, Joker is dead however, No Romance, Potentially Disturbing Themes, Psychological Horror, They both are still quite present in this story I assure you, we're all dying like mne out here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadGhosts/pseuds/DeadGhosts
Summary: It’s springtime, the season of life and rebirth. Some take this idea more literally than others.Or: an exploration of the events that could have occurred between City and Knight, and a glimpse into the mind of a Bat.
Kudos: 15





	(Almost) Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> The title is based off of Scissor Sister’s “Almost Sorry”, which I find fits quite well with the Arkham Knight subplot.  
> Yes, I am using game elements in this story. No, I will not apologize for it.

“Hey, B, you hear that?”

Jason always had that quirky sort of smile, pulling slightly more to the left than the right, with soft dimples and a closed mouth. He was a tad self-conscious about his crooked teeth, so Alfred had scheduled him a dentist’s appointment for next week. Bruce just hoped that the kid didn’t get his teeth knocked out as soon as they got them fixed. 

His eyes sparkled dimly underneath his Robin mask, the reflection of the streetlights dancing across the white lenses. His voice was a gunshot against the quiet hum of the Batmobile, intrusive but expected all the same.

“Hear what.” Batman’s eyes flickered over briefly, imperceptible under his cowl. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he scanned the empty streets. 

The night was dead silent; it seemed as though all the crooks had gone on vacation for the week. Patrol uncovered nothing: no drug rings, no serial killers, no robberies. It might have been a record for Gotham. He hadn’t seen a single police car or ambulance since they began their shift six hours ago.

In fact, he hadn’t seen anyone at all.

Hadn’t heard anyone at all.

Batman quietly pulled off into a narrow alleyway, flipping the vehicle into stealth mode with a gentle tap on the control panel. The tires slowed to a soft halt, grinding against the churned black pavement. The apartment complexes on either side of the Batmobile were grimy and decrepit, as was typical of the Narrows. The alleyway itself was just wide enough for them to slip out of the car if they were to walk sideways with their backs pressed against a building.

“Have you noticed?” Robin’s face was no longer visible in the darkness of the alleyway. A single streetlamp cast a thin ray of light onto his chest, illuminating the golden “R” situated to the right of his heart.

Batman grimaced, and with a twitch of an eye, he switched his cowl into Detective Mode. “The streets are empty.” He commented brusquely. No traces of body heat could be found, not even inside the apartments. He flicked it on and back off again, and like a faulty light switch his vision remained black as night. Could the cowl be broken?

There was always someone out in Gotham at night, whether it be an unlucky night-shifter, a criminal on the prowl for a victim, or a couple taking their kids to the movie theater. No matter the time or the date, Gotham was always breathing, and she lived for the night.

Except for tonight, apparently.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” No heat. No movement. No heartbeats, besides his own.

“Maybe everyone took a day off?” Robin suggested casually. He shifted in his seat, twisting against the safety guard to get a better look out the window. “Hey, mind unlocking this for me?”

“No.” Batman grumbled, watching the Batmobile’s radar pulsate on the control panel. There wasn’t even another car for five miles, and that’s assuming that there was a car beyond the radar’s sensor.

Batman tapped the pointy ear of his cowl, and a holographic screen lit up in front of his face. It flickered into view, and after a moment of pause, settled on a grainy message:

NO SIGNAL

What.

Batman frowned and adjusted the earpiece, twisting it side to side. “Oracle? Can you hear me?”

Silence. He tapped it again.

“Alfred?” 

The radio buzzed carelessly, the white noise sharp and crisp in his sensitive ears. He waited. Despite what his kids and Alfred may say, the Batman was perfectly capable of being patient. Maybe both Al and Babs had just happened to walk away from their computers for a moment’s reprieve at the same time. He could wait. He-

A piercing crackle shot through the radio, and Bruce narrowly resisted the urge to rip the cowl off and chuck it through the windshield. Thankfully, he had enough mind about him to just turn the earpiece off. Ugh. Hadn’t he just gotten the suit updated? There couldn’t have been a software error, he was _always_ up to date-

There was a soft giggle in the backseat.

Batman’s head whipped to the passenger seat, his body tensing at the sight.

Jason’s safety guard was unfastened, and the boy was gone.

He scowled. “Jason? How did you manage to get that undone?” He had the guards installed for a reason. Seat belts and airbags were no protection against his reckless driving, and after Dick banged his head against the dash during a midnight high-speed chase he couldn’t argue against the necessity. He had made sure to specify to Lucius that the passenger seat needed a lock-down feature. The boys were just too eager to go running into trouble. This just proved his case.

Batman let out a weary sigh and glanced into the rearview mirror, adjusting it to see a pair of blue-green eyes gazing back at him.

“Jason, put your mask back on and get up here.” Jason never liked the mask. He said it was itchy. That was stupid and impossible, and no matter how many alterations they made to the lining he still complained about it. Alfred said he was growing. Bruce said he was argumentative. Dick said Bruce deserved it.

Jason grinned mischievously, and without a word darted out the side door. Bruce blinked once, twice to make sure he had seen those events play out correctly. His eyes trailed to the dashboard, where the child lock button was outlined in glowing green. How on Earth had Jason managed to get out? Was the Batmobile failing him tonight as well? 

He slipped out of his own safety guard and fumbled with the driver’s side door, which was still locked of course. With an air of immense irritation that only Batman himself could conjure up, he flung the door open. . . only for it to collide with the brick siding of the apartment complex he had so wisely decided to park next to. A sort of wheezing, very un-Batmanly like screech sprung from his lips, and he hoped above all else that Jason hadn’t heard it. He’d have to make him swear secrecy, nobody could know, he was **_the Batman_** for-

Oh, the car was fine. He sometimes forgot that it wasn’t a normal car, but a military vehicle designed for rough combat and sticky situations. Or in this case, scratchy situations.

He mentally kicked himself for thinking that.

Bruce squeezed through the gap of the car door, the armor plates of his suit shifting for increased movement. A major enhancement from the older suits- an improved range of motion. He should thank Lucius for that later, then yell at him for the easily escapable safety guards.

He turned so his back was pressed up against the apartment complex and braced his foot against the wall. He grabbed hold of the opened car door, and with a burst of energy landed on the top of the Batmobile. From there, he could see the majority of the alleyway. It was surprisingly long, and the only sources of light were a couple of flickering dusk-to-dawn lanterns a good 50 feet apart from one another.

He flicked on the cowl’s Detective Mode again, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of red from his wayward child. Nothing. He swiveled around, looking towards the empty street. Nothing there, either. In fact, the road seemed to have disappeared entirely.

His frown only deepened as he turned off Detective Mode. It appeared that, despite all known laws of nature and physics, a brick wall had sprung up out of nowhere and blocked the entrance to the alleyway. The barrier stretched tall into the sky, obscuring his view of the city entirely. There was no way he could scale it, let alone Jason. It appeared that the only way out now was through the alleyway.

Of course.

Without another thought, Bruce walked to the end of the car and slid down the trunk. He landed on the pavement with a near-silent thud, years of training allowing him to balance his weight just perfectly for stealth. Jason had yet to master such feats, and still managed to sound like a raging bull when doing something as trivial as walking down a flight of stairs. As a matter of fact, it was odd that Bruce couldn’t hear him at that moment. He hadn’t witnessed this kind of silence since his sensory deprivation training, and that was an unnatural sort of silence to begin with.

Bruce shook his head and began a fast-paced stroll down the alleyway, his eyes darting to and fro. There were no signs of danger, but the fact that everything was so quiet and empty and _wrong_ had his nerves on edge. Not to mention, his son was lost and alone somewhere in that wrongness. He turned the microphone on the cowl up. “Robin, get out here right this instant!”

No response.

Bruce was not a claustrophobic man. His night job simply wouldn’t allow it, what with the constant crawling through ventilation ducts and squeezing through inhumanly small gaps. Yet, as he paced down the length of the alleyway, he couldn’t help but notice that the walls appeared to be drawing in closer. Couldn’t he stretch his arms out earlier?

He stepped into the last light and felt something crunch underneath his boot. Bruce jumped back at the unexpected sensation and looked down to see gleaming, golden pieces of metal scattered across the patchy red pavement.

He slowly crouched to the ground, gathering the pieces into his cupped hands. They began to reform into a golden "R", but it was noticeably less shiny and beautiful than before. Droplets of dark red were splattered across it like a bad paint job, and thin cracks were visible all throughout.

He could hear laughter in the distance, but it wasn’t his son’s. It was a high-pitched, cackling shriek, and beneath it, he could make out Jason’s quiet pleas of mercy.

He stared into the black night, knowing that when he looked back into his hands the "R" would be gone.

“Jason?”

**Author's Note:**

> Long story short, I basically wanted to explore the events that led up to Arkham Knight. Obviously none of this is at all canon, but we're going through a global pandemic and I've spent too much time watching psychological thrillers and horror movies recently.  
> I'm not sure how often this will be updated. It depends on when the mood strikes and how busy I am in that moment. We'll see. Thanks for reading!


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